… Key West evening,
I looked for a cab
near Duval, and
found a pink one
stopped at an
intersection.
The guy didn’t have any passengers, but he didn’t see me. I tapped on his window. He was talking on the phone.
He nodded me in.
The conversation on the phone was intimate and urgent. He drove distractedly.
I gave him my address. He nodded again, staggered down Duval, and kept talking.
Then he put the phone down and said to me:
“She wants me back, but I’m still under the restraining order she took out on me. I’m tellin’ her I don’t want to go jail. I know what that’s like. It’s the roommate’s fault. A real bitch that one. I fixed her. I have a friend at the housing office and they’re out of compliance. She don’t know it but she’s getting thrown out. Ha ha.”
The phone rang again. “Honey, what if you change your mind? I don’t want to go to jail.”
the end